


Page Nine

by reverieonice (im_reverie)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Coming Out, Grand Prix Final Banquet, M/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Post-Banquet, Rimming, Top Victor Nikiforov, Young Katsuki Yuuri, Young Victor Nikiforov, Yuri gives Victor a lap dance, Yuuri's Gay Awakening, blowjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 12:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_reverie/pseuds/reverieonice
Summary: Yuri had thought he was straight. He even tried to ask Yuko out, only for Yuko to make him realise that he was, in fact, gay. And in love with a certain silver-maned skater. Victor was uninspired, unmotivated, and he was bereft and empty. They meet at a banquet. Yuri gives Victor a lap dance. Victor becomes Yuri's coach. They fall in love together on the ice, and it's always a beautiful story.





	1. Yuri's Gay Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a quick one shot because I wanted to write Yuri masturbating to Victor but oops I turned it into a whole story. I'll try to finish this story quickly but I have absolutely no idea how long this will turn out to be. Stick with me if you want to see the end of this story. I don't even know when that is. 
> 
> And no I'm not sorry about the horrible chapter title. It's accurate.

It was around the Junior World Championships, when Victor broke the world record and became the figure skating legend that he was meant to be. Yuri had been obsessed with Victor from a young age, but this was something else. His idol, whom he had watched from the moment he sharpened his first blade, was now a global icon and a symbol for the sport he loved so much. He watched Victor break the world record with his family and friends back in Hasetsu, surrounded by the warm, homey scent of the Onsen. It was, truly, a remarkable day. He was twelve, and he already felt that somehow his entire life had been on hold until that moment. He was struck with a sudden inspiration and he could now feel his determination with a startling clarity. Katsuki Yuri was twelve years old and Victor Nikiforov was his idol, his inspiration, and his muse. 

 

Four years had passed since that day and Yuri was frustrated. He couldn't manage to land any of the quads that Victor so easily accomplished four years ago. He was angry, frustrated, and hurt. Four years of getting up at 6:30 in the morning, the gruelling runs up and down the Hasetsu castle, the intense workouts, and most of all, laying off his favourite dish - Katusdon - had all been for nothing. He knew, in the back of his mind, that it was just quads and it didn't define his career, he knew that he wasn't Victor Nikiforov and he shouldn't have expected to catch up with him that quickly. 

 

But it was hurtful all the same. 

 

He met up with Yuko by the Ice Castle to watch the recorded tape of Victor breaking the world record. It was sort of a tradition now, ever since that day. Ever since the day that Victor became Yuri's everything, Yuko and Yuri met up every year on the anniversary of it to watch, to remember, and to celebrate. It was, on Yuri's part to become motivated again. 

 

"Let's watch something else today, Yuri." Yuko suggested, smiling at Yuri. 

 

"Huh? But we always watch the Junior World Championships." Yuri said, a bit confused. 

 

“Yes, but today is different. You can’t be watching Victor at sixteen now, not now when he’s finally made a senior comeback. He’s twenty now, and he’s absolutely gorgeous.” Yuko winked at Yuri as she flipped through the channels, looking for the ice skating competitions. Of course Yuko would want to watch Victor at twenty. She was a girl after all, and Victor was certainly attractive. It was only natural that she would want to watch him at his peak. 

Yuri sighed. All these years, he suspected that Yuko might be interested in him, just a little bit. He knew that he wasn’t exactly Yuko’s ideal type of guy, but he had thought he improved a lot in the last four years, and Yuko was always by his side. Always. 

 

Yurri always had feelings for Yuko. He cared about her, deeply, and he couldn’t think about parting from her. Surely it was love? They were inseparable. They always ran to the ice rink together after school, jumping together simultaneously at the sound of the bell, grabbing their backpacks and running like their life depended on it. They made it a competition. The first one to the rink chooses the dinner menu. Yuko always won, but Yuri had always let her win. It was much more satisfying to see the smile on her face as she jumped up and down saying, “Yuri-chan! Hurry up! You lose again!” It truly brightened his day. 

 

Yuko was so kind, so supportive, so beautiful, and most importantly, she was basically family to him. He once imagined what it would be like to get married to Yuko and have kids. Maybe they would have triplets. He still couldn’t imagine having sex with her though, even at the age of sixteen, with his testosterone levels out of the roof. He brushed it off as his lack of experience and overall shyness. It was frankly a bit strange to try to imagine being intimate with one of his childhood friends, only to see her the next day. But he still loved her, he knew he had feelings for her, and for a while he thought maybe she loved him a little bit too. 

 

“Yuri? Yu—ri?” Yuko waved her hands in front of him, trying to capture his attention. “What’s gotten into you? You’re not focusing at all.” 

 

“Yuko, I need to talk to you about something.” Yuri said, making the decision out of impulse. 

 

“Hmm? What is it? You can tell me anything.” Yuko turned off the TV where young Victor from four years ago was appearing on ice, skating to his starting position on ice. So Yuko _had_ brought the pre-recording tape from four years ago. She knew him so well — she knew how much that moment mattered to him. She knew he wouldn’t be able to go on without watching it. It was almost a faith he practiced, a religious act. 

 

“I… Um…” Yuri felt uncharacteristically nervous in front of his best friend of over 10 years. "I was wondering… I just thought maybe you…” Yuri stammered, blushing. “I mean, you are a really wonderful person and such a beautiful girl, it’s only natural for me to have feelings for you. I am just a man, after all. And I just thought maybe… maybe you would feel the same?” Yuri blurted out his thoughts, without thinking about what he was saying. After saying it out loud, however, he realized what he had said and panicked. 

 

“Oh! I, I mean.. I mean that you’re really important and I’m really appreciative of you and I—” Yuri started, but Yuko gently stopped him. 

 

“Yuri, I think that is very nice of you, but you know Takeshi has feelings for me right? And he confessed to me, a few days ago. I’m sorry about not telling you about this, but I thought you already knew.” Yuko said apologetically. 

 

“Ah… I see. That’s okay, I mean, that’s great! I’m glad you guys are finally together. I wish you guys the best!” Yuri laughed awkwardly. Yuko looked so worried, so broken, Yuri felt as if _he_ were the one who just got rejected. 

 

“Yuri, I think I need to tell you something, and please don’t take this the wrong way.” Yuko put one hand on his shoulder, turning him around so he was facing her. “I don’t think you really have feelings for me, Yuri-chan.” 

 

If getting rejected didn’t hurt, that did. And it must have reflected on his face, because Yuko’s eyes immediately widened as she started to wave her hands around to explain. “No, no, no, not like that. I know you love me and you care for me very much, I know that. How could I ever doubt that? We were friends since we were toddlers. I could never doubt that. And I love you and care for you just the same. You know that right?” Yuri nodded despite himself, unable to ignore Yuko's pleading gaze. 

 

“I’m not saying that you don’t have feelings for me, Yuri, I really mean it. But I’m saying that it’s not like that, your feelings for me. You don’t love me the way Takeshi loves me, the way I love him. You love me as a friend, as your family. I consider you family, you know that right? I could never bear to destroy our relationship over this.” Yuko insisted, her eyes brimming with tears now. 

 

“Are you just saying this because you’re sorry you don’t love me back, because you don’t have to, Yuko-chan.” Yuri said, unable to look at her. But Yuko looked determined.

 

“No, Yuri. I’m saying this because I’ve seen the way you look at Victor. For four years, Yuri. Four whole years.” At that, Yuri snapped his head up and looked at Yuko with widened eyes. 

 

“What… what do you mean? Of course I would look at Victor with an admiring gaze. You know that. He’s my idol.” Yuri said, hurt that Yuko might assume that Yuri was simply admiring Victor for his external beauty. He appreciated that Victor was pretty on ice, but Victor meant something so, so much more than that. Surely Yuko knew that?

 

“I know you admire him, Yuri. And I know he means more to you than a simple celebrity. And I thought that was it when we were twelve, when we watched Victor with his long, flowing silver hair, kissing his gold medal. Admiration. But I think you and I both know that it’s not just admiration that you feel anymore.” 

 

“I… I don’t understand. I thought…” Yuri stammered, unable to iterate words. 

 

“It was around the Grand Prix Finals, when Victor was eighteen, and he was in the senior leagues. You were fourteen, just about hitting puberty. I remember you hated that your balance was off now that your growth spurt started.” Yuko laughed fondly at the sudden memory. Yuri smiled too, remembering how he complained all the time to Yuko, how she never complained back to him but took it all in consolidation. 

 

“It was night time, when everyone was gone. I checked in the Ice Castle to lock up but you were there. The rink was dimly lit so I couldn’t make out your face, but I knew from your movements that it was you. You were skating _the_ routine. _His_ routine. The one from the Junior Grand Prix Finals, the one we watch all the time.” 

 

Yuri remembered that night. It was a particularly hard day, with him flubbing nearly all of his jumps. He even failed to do the triple axel, which he never failed since he was 13. He was out of inspiration and he knew that he always felt better after skating Victor’s Junior Grand Prix Final routine, so he did. He wasn’t aware anyone was watching him, though. 

 

“I didn’t want to disturb you, so I just stayed where I was. I’m sorry about creeping in on you, I didn’t mean to." Yuko smiled apologetically. Yuri shook his head slightly to say the apology wasn’t necessary. 

 

“I thought you were going to leave after that, but instead you skated over to wear the monitoring station was and you flicked on the screen. You searched a bit in the cabinet where we keep all the pre-recordings and you pulled one out, a recent one where Victor cut his hair. He had short hair by then.” Yuri started to remember. That night, he watched Victor’s senior World Championships. He was phenomenal as always, so young at the age of eighteen, beating all the more experienced skaters. He had also cut his hair short, something about balance as he mentioned in an interview. It made sense, Victor had filled up nicely into his adult form. He might have needed the cut. 

 

“You remained on the ice, watching him, and I saw your face lit up by the screen.” Yuko shifted so she was facing him. “I saw your face, and I saw the way you look at him, Yuri. I know that face. You don’t just admire him. You want him.” Yuri blushed profusely at that. 

 

“That’s not true! I don’t… _want_ Victor. What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t like boys that way, Yuko-chan. Last time I checked, Victor was skating in the Men’s singles, not Women’s.”  

 

“Yuri, I know you like no one else does. And I know when you like someone. I’ve never seen you look at me the way you look at Victor. And the fact that he is a man doesn’t change the way you feel for him. It’s okay for boys to like boys, you know. Your parents wouldn’t mind. I know your parents, they are open-minded people.” Yuko took his hands in hers, a gesture of her unwavering support. 

 

“I….” Yuri was shocked. Yuko knew him better than he knew himself. How could he think that he felt that way for Yuko? She meant something else entirely to him. She was so special and it was not a relationship of a romantic nature that defined their relationship. They were family, like she said. 

 

“Here, I have something for you. I meant to give this to you after we watched Victor skate, but I think it’s better now than later.” Yuko reached into her backpack and produced a magazine. With Victor on the cover. With Victor shirtless on the cover. Shirtless Victor with a scorching hot gaze he usually reserved for the ice. Yuri felt his mouth run dry. 

 

“I bought this when I visited America with my parents, two years ago, when Victor turned eighteen. I got a lot of strange looks from the cashier, but I did it for you. _L’Homme Magazine_ did a shoot when Victor turned eighteen, celebrating the mature skater and a man he has become. Thus the lack of shirt.” Yuko smiled knowingly. 

 

“I..um…” Yuri mumbled as he tried to come up with an adequate response to this. But Yuko smiled and relieved him of the opportunity to do so. “You don’t need to say anything to me, Yuri-chan. Your face says it all.” Yuko teased, and Yuri blushed even further. 

 

“Pages 6-15. Photos of Victor and interviews. They are in English, but I’m sure you’ll manage, your English is very good.” Yuko assured him, handing him the magazine. 

 

“I better get going, then. Use that magazine. Make another tradition on this anniversary, if you will. If you know what I mean.” Yuko winked and Yuri screamed internally. 

 

“I’m— I’m not going to—” Yuri stammered, trying to deny her implications. 

 

“Oh please. Don’t deny it. We all do it. We’re teenagers, Yuri. It’s natural. You do it, I do it, everyone does it.” Yuko rolled her eyes at him, making him feel like a child. “I even brought this for you. Just in case you needed it.” Yuko threw him a bottle of lubricant, and Yuri thought this was the end of his existence. He was going to die of sheer embarrassment. 

 

“I stole it from Takeshi’s stash, so make good use of it.” Yuko said half-sternly, with a good natured smile. That brought unwanted images before Yuri and he quickly shook it off. 

 

“I’m… Thank you.” Yuri thanked her, not knowing what else he could do in this situation. 

 

“We’re okay, right, Yuri-chan? No hard feelings?” Yuko confirmed with him. She sounded nonchalant but he knew she was nervous under that façade. Yuri felt bad that he made his best friend—no— _family_ feel that way, so he immediately set her presents aside and pulled her into a hug. 

 

“Of course. You’ll always be Yuko-chan, my best friend. We’re family.” Yuri assured her, and he felt the tension leave her shoulders. Yuri was relived to see that. 

 

“Good! Now go home. Pages 6-15. Have fun!” Yuko giggled as if she told him to watch a new episode of a fun TV show rather than encourage her best friend to masturbate to his idol and apparent crush. _That’s why I love her so much_ , Yuri thought fondly, _she’s always so upbeat about anything_ , _it is simply impossible to be anything but happy around her_. 

 

Yuri nodded and smiled as she went out of the Ice Castle, presumably on her way to see Takeshi. Despite having been rejected, Yuri had never felt so at peace and truly, genuinely happy for her. _I just came out to my best friend_ , Yuri thought. _Wait no_ , Yuri corrected himself, _my best friend_ pulled _me out of the closet._ It was ironic, how she was the one that Yuri thought he had feelings for, and how she was the one who made him realize how he felt about Victor. 

 

He quickly packed the magazine and the bottle of lube that she gave him, cringing at the embarrassment he felt, and headed home. 

 

 

*

 

 

When Yuri got home, he ate, he showered, dried his hair, browsed the internet for some music he could use for his next routines, and proceeded to head over to bed. Just like any other day. 

 

He lay down in his dimly lit bedroom, but he was suddenly aware of the countless posters of Victor surrounding his bedroom. Victor winning his first medal, Victor with his long hair and a blue flower crown, Victor with a determined look on his face as he took the ice with a determination, Victor winning the gold medal at the Junior Grand Prix Final, Victor more recently with his short hair, looking beautiful than ever. Victor, Victor, Victor everywhere. Yurri was so used to having all of these posters around that he never really thought about it but now he was so _aware_ of it. He almost felt so embarrassed about lounging in his nightclothes in front of the posters of Victor, feeling that somehow Victor might be watching him. He knew that was an insane and impossible thought but he no longer could look at Victor with the same feeling as he did a few days ago, not now that he realized his feelings for him. 

 

Feeling a bit awkward, he decided it would be best to distract himself with the magazine of Victor that Yuko had given him earlier today. _Eye for an eye_ , they said. _Victor for Victor it is,_ he guessed. 

 

The magazine was glossy with a shiny cover that was bright and vibrant and everything that a magazine should be. The model on the cover was astonishingly handsome too, so that also helped. Victor was slightly leaning to his right, with his arms supporting him on the wall next to him, looking at the camera from a side angle. The light hit him in all the right places, accentuating his toned body and lean figure. Yuri was positively drooling over the way the light hit his torso, casting shadows on the lines of hard-earned muscles on his abdomen, highlighted by the intoxicating V-shape of his hipbones that travelled down from his lower waist down to his low-ridden jeans. Victor wore those jeans so low that if he pulled them down just a little bit, he could probably see his crotch. Victor nearly seemed hairless with silver hair covering his chest and a trail of barely visible hair traveling down his stomach and down and down and down and Yurri found himself tracing that trail of hair, and he immediately took his fingers off of the glossy cover. He couldn’t be doing this! What was he thinking? Embarrassed, he put away the magazine on the bedside cover and went back to sleep. Or tried to. 

 

He was already pretty hard from just looking at the cover of Victor. He felt uncomfortable and restless and unsatisfied. He adjusted his cock a little bit, trying to ignore the way it was poking against his now too-tight trousers, praying to every deity in the world that it would subside. After 10 minutes of trying to reconcile with himself, he found himself justifying that it was natural to be aroused while looking at a picture of a hot person, male or female, and it was natural that he would want to relieve himself when he was aroused. _Just once_ , he told himself, _just once and I’ll never do this again._ As he got up to find the magazine again and searched for the bottle of lube that Yuko gave him, he knew that even that was such a lie. He couldn’t bring himself to check on that lie. Not when his cock was already straining against his trousers at the sheer anticipation of what he was about to do. 

 

He opened up the magazine. Page six. It showed a picture of Victor, in those damned jeans again with no shirt, posing against a wall of medals, all of them his own. He felt his cock stir again. He got up to lock the door just in case and stepped out of his trousers, freeing his cock from the strain. He felt relieved even just by that. He turned the page and he saw Victor sitting on a couch, with his dog Makkachin, lounging comfortably. There were paragraphs of what seemed to be an interview, but he couldn’t make out the small print in the dark, so he decided to save that for later. The next page he wasn’t prepared for. It showed Victor in the shower, his eyes closed as he looked up at the shower head as it rained streams of water on him. It only showed up to his torso but that was more than enough. His hair was slightly darker wet and the water traveling down his body was so delicious, so tempting, and oh-so-very arousing. Page 9. He memorized that page, just in case. What he would be needing it for, he didn’t dare specify. 

 

He opened up the lubricant, the pop of the bottle cap opening was embarrassing, but he was shrouded in lust and he couldn’t make himself care anymore. He squeezed some lube out and warmed it up in his hand. Slowly, he reached down to himself and started stroking, slowly. He gasped as his warm, slick hand covered his throbbing cock, relieving it of its tension. He stroked slowly at first, gaining pace as he looked through more pictures of Victor. _Victor, Victor, Victor,_ so much of him around him, so much of him in his life, so much he had built around this man he had never even met. 

 

“ _Ahhhh_ ,” He moaned as he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock, while looking at a photo of a close-up of Victor’s face. He realized he had never seen Victor’s face up that close, not when he was always skating so fast. He had such beautiful eyes—two blue gems, with a hint of emerald, glistening in the light. It was ethereal and he wondered if humans were even allowed to be that beautiful. It seemed to mock God in its very existence. Nearing page 15, he turned back to page 9, the one where Victor was so sensual and so provocative. He sped up his strokes, going faster and harder and he felt himself ricocheting towards his orgasm. Faster, faster, faster, and _oh_ , _yes, yes, yes, yes_ —- “ _Ahhh, Victor,_ ” Yuri moaned as he came, his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d ever experienced, the sheer force of it knocking the air out of his lungs. His come smeared all over his chest, and some of it landed on the magazine as well. Yuri should have been worried about that, but right now he was coming like he’d never before, and the world as a big, hazy blur. 

 

He collapsed on the bed, trying to recollect his breathing. That was hands-down the best orgasm he had ever managed to bring himself in his entire life. He closed the magazine and put it under his bed, where no one could see it, and he hid his bottle of lubricant in his bedside drawer. He cleaned himself up with some tissues and headed back to bed, this time feeling satisfied. 

 

“Wow.” He said, unable to conceal his amazement for what just happened. He didn’t know how to process all of this. One minute Victor Nikiforov was his idol, his god, and now he was the object of his sexual desires? That was going to take a while to digest. Nevertheless, fatigue overcame him in the end and he fell asleep, falling into a deeper, more peaceful sleep than he’d ever had in a long time. 

 

 

*

 

 

A week after that happened, Yuri came out to his family. They had accepted him with big hugs and smiles, just like Yuko had told him they would. His sister even offered to give him the “sex talk” which he politely declined, if not refused. “I kind of knew you know,” Mari-chan said to him once over dinner. At Yuri’s confused look, Mari just rolled her eyes and said, “Please. The way you’ve been drooling over that Nikiforov, I would have been more surprised if you told me you were _straight_.” It seemed him that everybody but himself knew Yuri’s sexuality before he even did himself, which was a bit troubling, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it.

 

“Well, now that the coming out part is over, what am I going to do, Yuko-chan?” Yuri asked as they headed over to the Ice Castle one evening. 

 

“Hmm?” Yuko asked. “I mean, I know and I’ve accepted that I… _like_ Victor that way.” Yuri clarified. “Yeah, so?” Yuko prompted him to continue. “Well, now that I know that I like him, what am I going to do? It’s not as if he lives next door. He’s a world-class champion and I still haven’t won a single medal.” 

 

“You’ve got time, Yuri. Win the junior leagues and work your way up to the top. One day you’ll be skating on the same ice as him, and you’ll be able to meet him at parties and banquets. Just like all the other skaters. Nothing to worry about.” Yuko said without a hint of doubt in her voice it made it seem like a sin to even deny it. 

 

“I… I guess. But even if I do get on the same ice as him, even beat him, it doesn’t guarantee that he’ll be into me. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the industry. I don’t even know if he likes men, but if he does, why would he go for me when he could have someone much more attractive, successful, and better than me all around?” Yuri vented, making Yuko smile sympathetically. 

 

“Don’t worry, Yuri-chan. Your charm will get to Victor. I am sure of it.”

 

“Well, let’s hope that ‘charm’ of mine works, because I am rooting for that day.” 

 

 


	2. My Luchik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired and it's nearly 3AM but I can't stop writing they are so adorable.

Victor Nikiforov was 27 and he was on the podium, the top of it, above everyone else. Victor Nikiforov was a world-class athlete that held nearly all titles one could possibly hope to have in one’s skating career. Victor Nikiforov was successful, glorious, and a hero to Russia. 

 

Victor was standing on the podium as cameras flashed and the Russian anthem played and he mechanically put on his smile as he kissed his gold medal. He was everything he had hoped to be but he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. 

 

“ _Vitya_ , let’s go.” He heard Yakov calling his name as he motioned for him to step down from the podium. He hadn’t even realized the ceremony was over. He stepped down, took some pictures, answered questions from the press, dodging questions about his future plans with a suave grace he managed to render over years of dealing with the media. 

 

It was the same thing every season—skate, win, photos, press, interviews, banquets, and parties occasionally, if he felt up to it. He felt like a broken record at this point. He even got an occasional fuck out of the parties that he went to, with faceless men he could not remember the name of in the morning. They never stayed, he never expected them to. It was an unspoken rule in one night stands between athletes, especially if you were competitors. You can fuck, but a romantic entanglement can be a conflict of interest when it comes to skating, and it weakened you. Yakov always warned him about it whenever he occasionally met up with fellow skaters. Yakov eventually gave up on trying to stop him from having sex with other skaters, but he wasn’t happy about it nonetheless. Not that he really had anything to worry about, since Victor never felt anything more than arousal when it came to those encounters. He ignored anything regarding love for a good portion of his life. 

 

He didn’t really want a fuck today, though. He just kind of wanted to stay alone in his room, not thinking about anything. He wanted some vodka. But he knew Yakov wasn’t going to let him slide. He could recite his speech that he gave him whenever Victor tried to bail on the parties and the banquets: “Socialising with other skaters and sponsors makes you a more valuable skater and thus a competitor and it is part of your duty as a competitive skater to be present at these events, not to mention that you are the top skater, et cetera, et cetera…” Victor didn’t like it, but he complied with this anyway. He couldn’t bear to not listen to Yakov on even this trivial thing when he disobeyed him on nearly every other account. 

 

He arrived at the banquet, ready to put on his plastic smile that he usually reserved for sponsors and fellow competitors who he knew secretly loathed him but didn’t show it. He was in the middle of all of it, just waiting for all of it to be over when he saw that a crowd was forming at the other end of the room. He could hear Yura arguing with someone, and he made his way to the crowd. 

 

Yura was shouting at someone—a skater, he noticed. He recognized him from earlier today, just vaguely. He had a bad memory. He was a skater from Japan. He couldn’t recall his name. 

 

“I’m not doing a dance-off with you, asshole. Get away from me!” Yura yelled as he tried to shake the other skater off of him. But the other skater was insistent. 

 

“Come on, Yuri, dance with me! We even have the same name, what a coincidence. That’s great isn’t it? Dance with me. _Pleeaaasseeee_ ….?”

 

So his name was Yuri. Just like Yurochka. 

 

“Yu—ra, don’t get into fight with other skaters, now.” Victor approached them as he said in his trademark singsong voice. Yura glared at him in response. “He’s the one who fucking started it! Help me get him off of me!” Victor just rolled his eyes fondly and tapped the other Yuri’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. Which turned out to be much easier than expected, since Yuri’s eyes widened at the sight of him and immediately let go of Yura and started clinging to him. He seemed slightly intoxicated, and he could smell champagne on his breath. As a Russian, he couldn’t understand how anyone could get inebriated from something as light as champagne but he wasn’t about to judge. 

 

“Vic—tor!” Yuri exclaimed as he hugged Victor, clinging onto him. Victor was a bit taken aback, and he froze in his spot, just looking down at the man. “Victor, will _you_ dance with me?” He pleaded as he hung onto Victor even tighter. Victor couldn’t think of anything to say. He was usually smooth in social situations, no matter how awkward they were, but he never had _this_ happen to him. He was mostly used to default situations in which he could anticipate the outcome in about 0.5 seconds. “Oh, I got an idea! I will dance with the other Yuri, and _you_ —,” Yuri hiccuped, “—can be the judge. _Hai_?” Yuri looked up at Victor, his face red from the fumes of alcohol, and his eyes dazed. But they focused immediately as they caught Victor’s eyes. They seemed to shine under the light of the banquet room. Victor was rendered speechless again. “If I win, come to Japan. If I win, be my coach, will you?” Yuri said without taking his eyes off him. “Be my coach, Victor!” Yuri exclaimed happily as he plunged his face into Victor’s chest. Victor felt his heart skip a beat and he knew he was in for it. He blushed as he took in that moment of realisation. 

 

“ _Da_ ,” he said, agreeing to his terms. Both Yuris looked at him in surprise. One in delight, one in horror. “Ehh? Victor? Really? Ah, I’m so happy!” Yuri smiled and Victor felt his heart beat faster than it had ever before. _This man’s smile could kill a man_ , he thought. He wanted to see it more. He didn’t even know this man’s full name but his heart was already ensnared. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew this was stupid and could get out to the press and Yakov would have his throat, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. 

 

“Victor! Are you insane?” Yura yelled, horrified at the notion. “You are not going to become anyone’s coach. You promised me that you would choreograph me a program for my senior debut if I won. In case you haven’t noticed, I _won_. Keep your fucking promise.” Yura said with menace. To that, Victor just smiled. “I guess you just have to win, then.” 

 

Yura didn’t seem happy about that but Victor knew he wouldn’t turn down a competition when he saw one. “Fine, I’ll win against this fatso but you are coming to Saint Petersburg and you are choreographing a program for me and I will beat you next season. Just you wait.” Yura huffed as he turned towards Yuri. 

 

“Yo, fatso. You aren’t so pathetic now that you’re out of the bathroom, huh? Or maybe you’ll just go crying in the bathroom again once you lose to me.” Yura spat, and he felt Yuri tense in his arms. Yuri pulled himself out of Victor’s embrace and faced him with a stronger determination than before. He didn’t know how he was doing that in his state, but he sure was doing it. “Oh, you are going to lose, Yu—ri.” Yuri drew out that name as if he was trying to mock him for having the same name as him, who Yura just mocked. 

 

“Oh, how fun! I’ve never seen anything like this in banquets before! Isn’t it lovely, Victor?” Chris smiled as he approached them, speaking to Victor in French, clearly enjoying the situation. “ _Oui_.” Victor replied. He didn’t seem to be able to say much except ‘yes’ in various languages today. It probably had something to do with that Yuri. 

 

“Let’s start the music, now, shall we?” Chris turned on the music, a seductive tone they usually reserved for the after parties when everybody was seeking a body to touch. Yura seemed to be trying to reconcile with himself to dance before showing a determined nod, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. Chris gave him a wolf whistle. Meanwhile, Yuri seemed to be overcome by a sudden wave of shyness before he spotted another champagne flute. However, he didn’t go for the shot, but he went for the bottle. He gulped down the bottle before setting it down on the table with a loud thud, and he proceeded to the center of the floor, taking his jacket off in the process. He swayed his body to the music, taking the rhythm and making it his own. He was beautiful. 

 

He loosened his tie, took it off, and tied it around his forehead. He then started unbuttoning his shirt one by one, revealing his bare skin inch by inch. Victor could feel his blood rush south at the sight. He even started unbuttoning his trousers, which he felt he should stop for Yuri’s sake, but he couldn’t. His eyes were fixated on those fingers working the clasps of his belt, dropping it on the floor, before unbuttoning his pants. He stepped out of the offending garment as if he couldn’t bear to be in it a single second longer. Victor couldn’t have been more glad. In the corner, Yura was frozen with his mouth open, just staring at Yuri as he basically gave everyone a strip tease. 

 

Yuri didn’t seem to care about anything, however. He suddenly stopped swaying to the music before searching the room, pulling a chair from one of the tables and dragging it to the centre of the dance floor. He crooked his index finger and beckoned for Victor to come. Victor stayed frozen, taken aback, before Chris gave a low whistle and pushed him towards where Yuri was standing. 

 

“Sit.” Yuri said as he motioned to the chair. Suddenly sitting in that chair felt like the most important thing he had to do. He sat down, his head feeling heavy — either from the Vodka he had earlier when Yakov wasn’t looking or from the scorching gaze of the man before him, he didn’t know. All he knew was the Yuri was half naked in front of him, and it looked like he was about to give Victor a lap dance. 

 

Yuri slowly moved towards him in sync with the rhythm. The lines of his body were smooth and natural and he had the borne figure of a true skater. Victor wanted to touch him, to map out his entire body. He held himself back, however. Yuri put his hands on both side of the chair, looking down at Victor's eyes seductively as he hunched over him. “I—” Victor started, about to ask something—anything—before Yuri put one finger on his lips. “Shhhh,” Yuri whispered. “Not your turn, Victor. Mine. I’ve waited _so_ long.” 

 

At that, Yuri climbed onto his lap, and Victor didn’t need to be told to shut up because his brain had stopped working by that point. Yuri rolled his hips in time with the music and the crowd seemed to fade with each roll of his hips. He felt himself growing harder and he tried to back away from Yuri, to avoid letting him know that he was getting hard, but Yuri was not letting him. Each time he backed away, Yuri just ground onto him harder, and by the time the music was nearly over, Yuri was basically grinding on his crotch and Victor felt like he could come in his pants right there and now. “Yuri— Yuri, wait. Wait. Stop.” He didn’t need to be told to stop, apparently, because Yuri collapsed on him as soon as the music ended, and he seemed to be unconscious. Worried, Victor checked his breathing and his pulse and he seemed to be fine. _I guess people really do get intoxicated from champagne_ , Victor pondered to himself. 

 

“Victor? Is he okay?” Chris approached him, putting a hand on the chair Victor was still sitting in. Victor finally became aware of the crowd surrounding him and their expressions were somewhere between shocked, worried, aroused, amused and various other emotions in varying degrees. Yura was still frozen on his spot. 

 

“Yeah, he’s fine. He… I think he just had too much champagne.” Victor explained. “Oh, okay. Did he come with anyone?” Chris asked. The crowd seemed to slowly lose interest as they talked, dispersing amongst themselves. “No, he just approached me. I don’t know how he knows me. We’ve never met.” Victor admitted. At that, Chris rolled his eyes. “Of course he fucking knows you, you’re Victor Nikiforov. Honestly, Victor, after all these years, you still don’t have a sense of who you are.” Chris tutted. 

 

“Well, I guess someone has to take him back to sleep. We can’t just leave him here.” Chris beckoned to Yuri, who was soundly asleep against Victor. “He seems to be pretty attached to you. Why don’t you take him back to your room, Victor?” Chris suggested. Victor blushed and refused. “I’m not going to take advantage of him like that. You know I’m not that kind of person. And I wasn’t looking for a fuck today, Chris.” Victor insisted. “ _Wasn’t_?” Chris said, not missing a beat as he smirked. Victor just rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. 

 

“Fine. I’ll take him back. But only to sleep. And I’ll explain to him tomorrow morning why he’s in a different room. Take Yura back to his room, will you? He seems a bit traumatized.” Victor conceded, taking Yuri in his arms and carrying him as he got up from the chair. He would never be able to look at that chair without being reminded of this. 

 

“Will do. _Au revoir,_ Victor.”

 

“ _Dosvidanya_ , Chris.” 

 

Victor carried Yuri up to his room, all while Yuri clung onto him like a Koala. He smiled at the sight. He would look for his full name on the internet when they got to the room, he decided. 

He opened the door with a little difficulty while trying not to drop Yuri in the process. He succeeded, turning the handle with one arm while supporting Yuri with the other and pushing it open with his foot. He walked over to his bed and placed Yuri on the right side of it, being careful not to drop him suddenly. He put the blankets over him and setting Yuri’s glasses on the bedside table. 

 

He went over to sit on the plush chair with the table where his laptop was placed open, just the way he had left it. He searched for the list of the contestants for today’s match and found who he was looking for. Katsuki Yuri of Japan. From the articles, he seemed to have flubbed his free skate pretty badly today, which cost him dearly in his ranks. 

 

He searched YouTube for a few videos of him skating, trying to get a feel of what kind of skater he was. In the midst of searching, he found a video uploaded by the “ _Ice Castle Hasetsu_ ” channel. The title was “ **Katsuki Yuri skating Victor Nikiforov’s Junior Grand Prix Final Routine**.” Intrigued, he clicked on it and plugged his earphones in. He recognized the music immediately. It was the music he skated to when he was sixteen and he had broken a world record. He remembered being so motivated. Nothing like he was now. He felt a pang of remorse at the old memories that resurfaced. Yuri seemed to be a lot younger than he was now, he couldn’t have been more than sixteen when this was posted. He knew Yuri was twenty four now. So Yuri had been watching him for a while now. That’s why he recognized Victor immediately. 

 

Yuri danced with a passion that Victor recognised. It was the passion that brought him to skate when he was still young and hopeful, still gasping at every Personal Best and every new record he set. Every medal he won was hard-earned and he cherished them no matter what color they were. Because they were the fruits of his labor and the embodiment of his passion. That was what made it special. Nowadays, he took his medals for granted. He didn’t even remember what it felt like to be _desperate_ to win. 

 

Yuri took his routine and made it his own. He didn’t land all of the quads, but that didn’t matter. His body was not following the music—he made the music. He _was_ the music. Victor remembered earlier tonight, when Yuri clung to him and asked him to be his coach. 

 

He made his decision. Yuri had won the dance-off, anyway. 

 

 

*

 

Despite himself, Victor hesitated before slipping into the bed beside Yuri, who was still soundly asleep. He usually wasn’t the type to feel uncomfortable about sleeping next to other people but this was Yuri and somehow it felt a little bit different. He maintained a safe distance from the figure next to him as he tried to sleep. As much as he wanted to close the gap between them, he didn’t want Yuri to panic when he woke up in Victor’s arms. Despite his intentions, he felt the other side of the bed dip a little as Yuri shifted and rolled over to where Victor was lying. It seemed to be an unconscious act, just on instinct. Probably seeking body heat, Victor presumed. Yuri seemed to like this new addition of Victor’s warm body and Yuri tugged him closer to him, hugging him like a pillow. Giving in, Victor turned his body around to face Yuri and took him in his arms, holding him close. Yuri snuggled closer to him as if it was the most natural thing he could do, and Victor’s heart hurt at how adorable it was. Yuri buried his face in Victor’s chest and continued to sleep, and Victor could feel the warmth of his breath against his chest. 

 

On impulse, Victor petted Yuri’s head, his fingers raking through Yuri's dark, soft hair. Yuri shifted a little bit and Victor stopped immediately, not wanting to wake him. Yuri's eyes fluttered open and looked up at him, and Victor’s heart stopped. 

 

“Vic….tor?” Yuri mumbled, sleep in his voice. Victor remained silent. “Victor, _mmm_ ," Yuri sighed happily as he buried his face in his chest again, breathing him in. “You smell really nice.” Yuri said, still against his chest. “This is a... really… good dream. I usually can’t smell you in my dreams. This… this is very nice. I hope I remember this.” Yuri’s voice was muffled against Victor’s chest, but Victor understood every word. He was about to explain that this wasn’t a dream, that he was real, but Yuri dozed off again and he didn’t want to wake him up.

 

“Sleep well, my _luchik*_.” 

 

Victor couldn’t help but kiss Yuri’s forehead, smiling at the ray of sunlight that suddenly popped into his life and took his heart. He no longer felt empty, no longer left bereft in the middle of the ice. He found his place now. He fell asleep to the sound of Yuri’s even breathing and the steady beat of his heart. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *luchik (Лучик): A luchik is your sunbeam, your little ray of light. It was also the name of one of the Sochi Olympic mascots. I thought it was fitting. 


	3. Most Definitely Not A Dream

When Yuri woke up, he head a massive headache. 

 

 _Ow_ , he thought, _what the hell happened last night, did I fall off a cliff or something?_ It took a while for him to adjust to the morning light and regain his steady consciousness. But when he did, he wasn’t sure what was reality anymore because he was lying in bed, half naked with _Victor Nikiforov,_ the one and only, in his room. Who also happened to be half naked and he had his arms protectively around him. He just froze, not knowing what to do. A million thoughts ran through his mind, trying to figure out what possibly could have happened to land him in _Victor Nikiforov’s_ bed. He couldn’t come up with a single thing. He racked his brain trying to remember what happened last night. He vaguely remembered going to the banquet, drinking some champagne, then blank. His memory film cut off around the sixth flute of champagne he had. He stared at the sleeping figure of Victor in front of him. He was so close and so _real_ that it felt _unreal_. He studied the steady rise and fall of Victor’s chest, the way his silver eyelashes fanned against his cheek, the beautiful curve of his jawline. He still wasn’t convinced that this was real, it could be another one of those hormone-induced dreams that he got from wanking too much to images of Victor. He never kept that promise of “last time” after all, not that he expected to anyways.

 

He raised one of his arms slowly and reached out to touch Victor’s face. His skin was soft and smooth and it felt so…. _surreal_. Was this a dream? He kept contemplating before he felt the other man stir. Victor’s eyes opened, revealing those beautiful blue orbs. His eyes were unfocused for a while before they focused on Yuri’s startled gaze, settling his gaze to the hand on his cheek. Victor smiled and took Yuri’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. Yuri could have died right there and his life would have been worth it.

 

“Good morning, my _luchik.”_ Victor said, his voice still rough from sleep. He sounded so incredibly sexy with that voice, but Yuri couldn’t even process it at the moment. He only had one thing to find out. 

 

“Is this a dream?” Yuri asked, not sure of himself. Victor chuckled at that. 

 

“No, my _luchik._ You said that yesterday too. I promise you, this isn’t a dream.” Victor seemed amused. “Why, Yuri, do you have many dreams about me?” Victor asked as he seductively traced Yuri’s bottom lip. “I’d like to know what kind of dreams you have about me.” Victor slowly drew out those words, making Yuri feel dizzy. 

 

“Uhh….” Yuri let that sink in. So this wasn’t a dream. So he was really in Victor's bed and his clothes were missing and Victor was calling him Russian pet names and tracing his lips seductively and saying dirty things to him in his sexy morning voice. He took a moment, and then he freaked out. 

 

He jumped out of Victor's bed and frantically looked for his glasses, pulling them on, he stood up, trying to maintain his balance. His head ached from the champagne and he couldn’t find his clothes anywhere. 

 

“Yuri—” Victor started, but Yuri cut him off. “How do you know my name? Wait, why am I here? Why…” He gestured to the room as a motion to ask just what the hell was happening. 

 

“You don’t remember anything?” Victor asked, sitting up. He got up from the bed to the minibar and poured a glass of water and found a pill, handing it to Yuri. “Take it. You look like you need it.” It seemed to be a hangover pill, and Yuri was grateful no matter who it was that was giving it to him. Even if that person turned out to be Victor Nikiforov in just his boxers. 

 

Yuri gulped down the pill and the rest of the water and set it down on the table next to him. Victor seemed to be going through his wardrobe. "You took your clothes off at the banquet and I couldn’t find it anywhere last night. It must’ve been swept away by the crowd. Perhaps we’ll ask the staff if they have it this morning.” He pulled out a white shirt and a pair of jeans, both of which looked expensive and well-made. “You can wear my clothes for now. Tell me if they don’t fit.” He threw his clothes towards Yuri, and Yuri barely managed to catch it. He was disoriented and the thought of him wearing Victor’s clothes made him feel fuzzy but he was half naked and it was getting a bit cold so he wore them without complaint. 

 

“Thank you.” He said, pulling the jeans on. Surprisingly, they were a perfect fit, even though Victor was a bit taller than him. “They fit nicely.” He told Victor. Victor seemed satisfied. “I thought they might fit well. I wore those jeans once for a photoshoot for a magazine once… for my eighteenth birthday I think. It was a long time ago. L'homme magazine, I think. I’m not entirely sure.” Yuri was pulling on the shirt before he froze. “Why, is there something wrong?” Victor asked as he pulled on clothes of his own and walked over to where Yuri was standing, still frozen. “Yuri?” Yuri finally regained motion and pulled on the rest of the shirt. Yuri had a blush that extended across his face, and it wasn’t from last night’s alcohol. 

 

“Nothing. It’s fine.” If someone had told him he would be wearing _the_ jeans from that magazine a few years ago in Victor’s hotel room, he would have laughed at them. Impossible. Unimaginable. 

 

Well, here he was. 

 

“Shall we sit?” Victor motioned to the chairs behind Yuri. Yuri nodded and sat down, his mind blank. Victor stopped in his tracks before moving back to the minibar. “Coffee or tea?” He asked Yuri. Yuri’s mind was incapable of making any decisions, but he said tea on impulse. Born and bred Japanese, green tea was his favorite drink. 

 

“All right.” Victor said and he put the kettle on, taking out a few cups and placing a tea bag in one and a coffee one in another. He poured the hot water in them and placed each cup on a saucer, carefully bringing them over to the table. He placed the tea in front of Yuri, motioning him to take it. Yuri took a sip and said, “ _Spasibo_.” 

 

Victor smiled and said, “ _Pozhaluysta_.” He took a sip of his own coffee, and sat down in front of him. 

 

“So, you probably have some questions, yes?” Victor asked, raising his eyebrows. Yuri just nodded. “Well, ask away, _luchik.”_ Victor smirked.

 

“Well, first, what does _luchik_ mean _?”_

 

“A ray of sunlight.” Victor answered happily. 

 

“And why are you calling me that..?” Yuri asked skeptically. 

 

“You’ll find out, _luchik._ Next question!” Victor seemed to be having fun, which seemed just baffling for Yuri. 

 

“Why am I here?”

 

“Because I carried you here, of course.” Victor answered that as if it was the most obvious fact. 

 

“Well, you know what I mean. What happened last night?” Victor’s eyes twinkled in the morning light. Now that he was having tea with him, he was finally letting the reality seep in. This was his idol. His dreams. His fantasies. And he was right in front of him. Yuri tried his best not to pinch himself. 

 

“Do you really want to know, _luchik?_ ” Victor’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I can _show_ you, if you want.” Yuri’s eyes went as wide as the saucers on the table. 

 

“No, no, no, no, no! That won't be necessary!” Yuri shook his head profusely. _Did we really….?_

 

“Why, what do you think happened, Yuri?” Victor asked as he sipped his coffee again. 

 

“I… I don’t know…. Did we…?” Yuri implored carefully, not wanting to make things even more awkward. Victor didn’t seem to feel awkward at all. In fact, he seemed to be _enjoying_ this situation. 

 

“Did we what Yuri?” Victor questioned, even though Yuri knew that Victor was aware of exactly what he was talking about. He just wanted to hear it. 

 

“Did we…. did we do it?” Yuri hoped to the gods that Victor would stop it there and not make him say anything more explicit. Victor chuckled softly before putting his cup down. “If by _it_ you mean sex, no." Victor said the word ‘sex’ without blushing a tiny bit whereas Yuri was squirming in his seat. His jeans felt suffocating because they brought back so many memories and sex was just another trigger word. 

 

“We danced though, well, _you_ danced. I sat there.” Victor laughed a bit. “Yura was there too. He didn’t dance very much.” Victor seemed a little fretful that Yura, whoever the hell that was, didn't dance. 

 

“Yura? Who’s Yura?” 

 

“Yuri Plisetsky. I call him Yura. He hates it. I guess I have an excuse to call him Yura now, now that I’m going to be your coach. I can’t mix you guys up, _da_?” Yuri choked on his tea, trying to process the information that had just been _thrown_ at him. 

 

So apparently he danced with Yuri Plisetsky and Victor Nikiforov last night after he got drunk and now Victor Nikiforov suddenly wanted to be his coach. _What_?

 

“What?” Yuri thought out loud. 

 

“Well, you did win the dance off after all. There wasn’t much to judge, not when Yura wasn’t dancing at all. You won. I become your coach. I keep my promises, you know.”

 

“Wait, what promise? Why was I dancing?”

 

“You challenged Yura to a dance off and asked me to become your coach if you won. You won.” Victor said matter-of-factly. “As for the question of why you were dancing, I don't know. Why does anyone dance?” 

“And you actually agreed to this? To becoming my coach?” Yuri asked, dumbfounded. 

 

“Well of course! I watched one of your skating videos yesterday, you have potential! You just have to improve your technical aspects and you are set for gold. _We’ll win together, luchik.”_ Victor winked. Yuri’s heart did jumping jacks in his chest. 

 

“Ah…uh…um…I…” Yuri couldn’t pronounce anything above one syllable. After a while, he recovered from his speech impediment. 

 

“Um, but that doesn’t explain why I woke up half naked in your bed.” Yuri managed to say without messing up. 

 

“Well, you sort of collapsed on me after the dance off, and nobody knew what to do, so I just kind of carried you here. We didn’t do anything, we just slept.” Victor assured. _Oh god_ , Yuri thought, _I just made a mess of myself in front of my idol._ How fucking embarrassing. He wanted to die in a corner. 

 

“I already called my coach to tell him that I was going to go with you to Japan. You can train with me back there. You have a rink near your home, _da_?” 

 

“Yes, but….”

 

“Good! Now, call your coach to tell him that I will be taking over for next season. Let’s go back to your room and get your stuff, I booked us flights to Japan, and it leaves in about…” Victor stopped to check the time, “….4 hours. Let’s move it!” Victor got up and started to pack things up, while Yuri just sat there. Victor threw him his phone, telling Yuri to dial his coach. Victor came over to unlock it for him, and Yuri absentmindedly punched the digits and let it ring for about 3 rings before his coach picked up in the voice he usually reserved for unknown numbers. 

 

“Hello, this is Celestino. Who am I speaking to?”

 

“Coach, it’s me, Yuri.”

 

“Yuri! Where are you? What happened? You weren’t in your room, Pitchit said he couldn’t reach your cell, I was so worried!”

 

“Um… well…. it’s sort of complicated. But I’m calling from Victor Nikiforov’s phone at the moment, and I sort of need to get back to my room and also I need to talk to you about something. Could you please come to room…” He looked to Victor for help. “Room 304!” Victor called out from across the room. 

 

“Yeah, could you please come to Room 304?”

 

“Wait what? Why are you with Nikiforov? What happened, Yuri?” He sounded worried. Yuri felt bad, but he didn’t want to talk too much on the phone. “I’m really sorry, but just please come here, I’ll explain. Yes, he’s here too. I know, I’m sorry. Okay. Thank you. Bye.” Yuri hung up, sighing. 

 

“Is he coming here?” Victor asked, walking towards him. 

 

“Yeah, he’s coming up right now. Is that okay? I’m sorry I didn’t ask first.” 

 

“No worries, _luchik._ I meant to talk to him too. Speeds things up.” Victor patted him on the shoulder before the doorbell buzzed. “Oh look, he’s already here! That was fast!” Victor beelined towards the door, opening it up with a huge smile. “ _Dobraye utro_ , Ciao Ciao!” Victor greeted him, startling Yuri. Ciao Ciao was a name people only close to Celestino knew.  “Victor! How are you?” _Oh so they did know each other,_ Yuri thought _, should have known._ “ _Spaseeba preekrasna!_ How are you? Come in, come in.” Yuri got up, approaching his coach. 

 

“Yuri!” Ciao Ciao seemed to be relieved to see him. “I was so worried! I’m glad you’re okay!” Ciao Ciao smiled at him. 

 

“You are a kind man, Ciao Ciao. Yakov would have had my throat.” Victor joked goodheartedly. 

“I know, I know. But I tend to go easier on my athletes. Speaking of, why did you bring me here? And why is Yuri in your room?” Ciao Ciao gave Yuri a meaningful look, fully knowing Yuri’s obsession with Victor. Yuri blushed and tried to defend himself, but Victor beat him to it. 

 

“No, we didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Victor said. Yuri internally screamed. Victor was just so…blunt about things. “Really? But Yakov told me that—” Victor cut him off, whatever he was trying to say. “Well, Yakov says a lot of things, Ciao Ciao. Not all of them are true. To some extent.” Victor admitted. 

 

“Okay, then why am _I_ here?” Ciao Ciao asked. “Oh, I just wanted to tell you that I will be taking Yuri as my student. I’m taking next season off.” Victor said nonchalantly, as if it were just a simple statement rather than an astonishing fact. Yuri tensed, waiting for his apparently former Coach’s response. “That’s great! How did you manage to land Nikiforov, Yuri? That’s something.” Well, he certainly wasn't

expecting that. 

 

“Well, Yuri is quite the charm, you see.” Victor replied smoothly, smirking a little bit. Yuri had a moment of flashback where Yuko told him that his charm would work on Victor. He would tell her about this as soon as he got to Japan, he noted to himself. 

 

“I’m not convinced. What did you do, Yuri?” Ciao Ciao enquired with half amazement and half curiosity. “I actually don’t really know.” Yuri replied in all honesty. At that Victor feigned hurt. “Ah, _luchik,_ I’m wounded, how could you seduce me like that and forget about it?” Yuri almost choked on his own _breath_.

 

“ _Seduce_ you? Me? Seduce _you_?” Yuri exclaimed, the world not making sense anymore. In what world does Katsuki Yuri seduce Victor Nikiforov? 

 

“Well, yes, _luchik._ You are quite something on the dance floor. Or well, it was technically my lap, but I’d imagine you’re compelling on the dance floor as well.” _Oh_. So Victor conveniently _forgot_ to tell him about the part where he did a _lap dance_ for Victor Nikiforov. He just said it was a dance-off. He didn’t know this particular detail. He couldn’t bear to look at Ciao Ciao. 

 

Ciao Ciao just looked mildly amused, however. “Told you not to drink too much, Yuri. Things happen.” He smirked. “Well, good luck next season, Yuri. You have great potential in you and I’m sure Victor will help you unlock that potential.” Ciao Ciao patted him on his back. “Wait, you’re not upset?” Yuri asked, taken aback. “Why would I be? I’m proud that one of my students will be training under Victor Nikiforov. No matter what the approach was, Victor must have saw some potential in you.” Ciao Ciao remarked. “ _Da_. He does have much potential.” Victor confirmed. 

 

“Well, here’s your room key, I’ll see you next season. Keep in touch!” With that, he just left. It was all so sudden. He didn’t think a person’s life could change in the mere span of 30 minutes but it happened and now he was just shell-shocked. If he got any more surprises, he thought he might go into a permanent coma. 

 

“Well, _luchik,_ I’m done packing. Let’s go to your room now, _da_?” 

 

“Okay?” Yuri said, unsure of everything. He just followed Victor’s lead. Victor dialed a number on his phone and let out a rapid stream of Russian as they walked down the corridor to the elevators. The voice on the other side didn’t seem too happy about talking to him, but Victor just smiled and said _da_ and hung up. 

 

“Okay, which floor?”

 


	4. Back to Hasetsu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who read this, left kudos, and commented! It's nice to see other people enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing this. Is anybody else ignoring life responsibilities? I am.

In a rapid spur of movements, they were at the airport and aboard to flight headed to Hasetsu, Japan. Victor seemed to be so casual about everything, as if him coming to Hasetsu with Yuri was something he expected all along. Yuko was going to freak out. 

 

“Want anything to eat, _luchik?”_ Yuri eventually got used to Victor calling him _luchik,_ although he still didn’t know why. 

 

“I’m good, thank you. And I’ll pay you back when we go to Japan. You didn’t need to pay for the flight.” 

 

“No, no, no, _luchik._ It’s okay. No need.”

 

“Well, I want to pay you back. So please.” Yuri insisted. He hated being in debt, and he already felt like he owed Victor so much, and he didn’t even know him for a full day. Well, as far as he remembered. 

 

“Well, in that case, money is not necessary,” Victor shifted closer to him, “pay me back in another way, will you? Can you think of anything, _luchik?_ Something that will excite me?” Victor whispered right next to his ear, causing Yuri to shiver and blush. 

 

“Vic—tor! There are other people here!” Yuri chided him, embarrassed that someone might have heard them.

 

“Why, thinking of something naughty, my _luchik?_ I was only saying you could treat me to a meal or something.” Victor said, feigning innocence. Yuri glared at him. “Or perhaps you could tell me about those dreams you have about me. They would certainly excite me.” Victor smirked. Yuri wanted to die. How was he going to survive with this man as his coach?

 

“Ugh, you’re impossible, Victor.” Yuri huffed. “I will treat you to Katsudon, then, I suppose. If a meal is what you want.”

 

“Katsudon? What is that?” Victor seemed curious. 

 

“It’s my favorite Japanese dish— it’s a pork cutlet bowl, with eggs and rice and everything. My mother makes an amazing Katsudon.” 

 

“Mmm, I’m excited. I can’t wait until we get to Japan. Although I would’ve liked to have _you_ , my _luchik.”_ Victor teased, poking him in the side. “Victor! People!” Yuri hissed again, turning a few heads to their seats. Victor just chuckled. “ _Da, da_ , Yuri.” 

 

For the whole flight, Yuri just wondered what in the world he could have done to get Victor to flirt with him like this. It wasn’t like he was unhappy about it, but he would’ve liked to remember what had made the person that mattered to him the most so infatuated with him. _I could show you_ , Victor had said. Did he mean it? So would Victor do a lap dance for _him_? The thought sent shivers down his spine and his blood rushed south. Then he remembered that he was wearing _the_ jeans and that didn’t help. Despite his every wish, his cock seemed to love this current situation and started filling up. He looked over to Victor, who was looking at his phone. He prayed to god that Victor wouldn’t notice the hard-on he was sporting right now. He tried to look for a blanket to cover his legs with. 

 

“Here.” Victor handed him a blanket, without looking away from his phone. Yuri could have died there. But he took the blanket and covered up his erection as if nothing happened. Maybe Victor would let this slide. But then Victor’s hand started traveling up his legs, his thighs, and so close to his crotch under the blanket it made him suck in his breath. 

 

“Victor, _don’t_.” Yuri warned. Victor sighed and retreated, but he shifted closer to him and whispered, “if we weren’t on a cramped plane right now, I would take you right now, my _luchik._ What a shame.” Then, he noticed that Victor too had a blanket over his lap, which didn’t exactly do a great job concealing his bulge. Yuri blushed harder than before and buried his face in his hands. 

 

“Oh my god, I’m just going to try to sleep. Please don’t wake me up until we arrive.” Yuri claimed and turned away from Victor, since he couldn’t look at him without blushing or coming in his pants like a teenager. 

 

“Okay, _luchik. Sweet dreams_.” Victor said sweet dreams in a teasing manner, reminding him of this morning. He realized that was a very stupid thing to say and now Victor would use that against him forever. 

 

There wasn’t anything to worry about, since he wasn’t able to going to sleep anyways. How could he, with _him_ by his side?

 

However, Yuri did manage to doze off, since it was pretty a long flight. He was in the middle of having a really nice dream about eating Katsudon when he felt a hand slowly shake him awake. “Yuri, wake up, my _luchik._ We are here.” Yuri slowly fluttered his eyes open to see Victor looking at him. For a moment, he let all of his guards down and let himself be happy, to relinquish in the moment where he was waking up next to Victor Nikiforov. For a moment, there were no insecurities and no complexities and it was just him and me. Yuri smiled like the happiest person on Earth. Victor’s eyes widened marginally, looking surprised. Then, he slowly shifted into a suave smile, saying “Have a nice dream?” With that, Yuri was shifted back to reality. He could hear the low buzzing of the airplane as the wheels rolled on the airstrip. 

 

“All passengers, we have arrived at Hasetsu, Japan. The local time is 14:00 and the temperature is 3 degrees celsius. Currently, there is a lot of snowfall locally so passengers please be aware. We will start exiting the flight now, please cordially exit the flight in single files. This was your captain speaking, I hope you had a great flight. _Arigato_.” 

 

“Okay, did you get your stuff? Let’s go.” Victor said as he got up to move from his seat. Yuri quickly followed suit, grabbing his things and following Victor’s footsteps. Even as he followed Victor, his silver hair so prominent among the sea of muted colors, he still couldn’t get used to him being around. He was just so…. _him_. He shined too bright, burned too strong, and he overwhelmed Yuri with his mere presence. 

“So… let’s see. We check out our baggage, go through customs, and shall we go to where you live? Do you have anyone to pick you up, Yuri? Or we could take a taxi.” Victor said as they exited the flight. 

 

“I… I could call Minako-Sensei, she could take us home.”

 

“Hmm.. Who is Minako-Sensei? Your girlfriend?” Victor’s eyes glinted as he asked, seemingly nonchalant. Yuri almost laughed at the transparent façade. 

 

“Oh, no! She’s my ballet instructor. She’s a good friend. I don’t… I don’t really like _girls_ that way.” Yuri admitted. Victor brightened significantly at that. “Ah, I see, _luchik._ I see we have many things in common.” Victor winked at him as he beckoned Yuri to come over. He was already heading to the baggage area. Yuri stood paralyzed on the spot after Victor’s wink, but he soon recovered and hurriedly caught up with him. He noticed that the intervals of his apparent paralysations and speech impediments whenever Victor was around were getting shorter, which was something he appreciated. But still, he was still far from being comfortable around him. He envied Victor, he seemed so confident and cool and outgoing around anyone. 

 

They waited for their bags to come, and Victor told him to wait a minute as he went to pick up something. Turns out, it wasn’t some _thing_ that he went to pick up. He came back with Makkachin, with his leash and everything. Yuri felt a pang in his chest, reminded of what happened with Vicchan during the time he left to train with Ciao Ciao in Detroit, but quickly brightened up at the sight of such a familiar poodle. “Makkachin!” He beamed as he crouched down to pet her. She seemed to resemble his owner, since she was not scared of anyone at all and she was already so fond of him. “You know her name,” Victor mentioned as he spotted their luggages and moved to lift them from the conveyor belt. Yuri forgot about the fact that Victor technically didn’t tell him about Makkachin just yet. Yuri blushed deeply and said, “Well, yeah, I might’ve seen you mention him in an interview or something. I was only interested because I also had a poodle!” Yuri quickly tried to make up an excuse for knowing Makkachin. Victor just seemed amused and said, “Well, I never said there was anything wrong with it, did I? You can hold onto her for me, I’ll push the cart.” Victor loaded the cart with their suitcases and moved forward, handing Yuri the leash for Makkachin. 

 

The customs were, typically, boring. Victor got a few ooh’s and ahh’s from the people around him. He didn’t know if it was his celebrity status or simply the existence of him that made people swoon. Probably both. Meanwhile, Yuri put on his mask and coat and travelled in silent companion as they waited in the grueling line for the customs. 

 

“Next!” The customs lady called. “I’ll see you on the other side, _luchik.”_ Victor said in his deep voice, still a bit heavy from the Russian accent, and moved to where the lady waited. The lady seemed to recognize Victor, _must be a fan,_ Yuri thought. The lady smiled and fumbled as she went through the customs and Victor just smiled and nodded, occasionally answering a question or two. The lady blushed and smiled and he let Victor go, and Victor said _arigato gozaimasu_ in his Russian accent before moving past him. 

 

“Next!” The lady called. She wasn’t as enthusiastic as she was with Victor, but she was nice nonetheless. Since he was Japanese, he didn’t have to answer as many questions, but she did ask him a few perfunctorily before moving past him. His instinct, after so many years of speaking English in Detroit, was to answer in English, before realizing his was now in Japan and could speak his mother tongue. Something so familiar never felt so foreign. It was a nice feeling, to be able to do so. He wondered if Victor would miss Saint Petersburg. He suddenly felt sorry about this whole fiasco, even if Victor didn’t exactly give him a choice, he just kind of came on his own. 

 

“ _Luchik!_ Let’s go, Japan is waiting for us.” Victor beamed as he pushed the carts towards the arrivals gate. “Huh? Japan? I thought it was just Minako-Sensei.” The question was left unanswered but it turned out it didn’t need to be. The moment Victor and Yuri stepped out to of the arrivals gate, cameras flashed and hundreds of reports rushed to them, pushing the microphone to the faces. Yuri’s eyes widened in surprise, while Victor remained calm and put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder. 

 

“Is it true that you are going to take next season off and become Katsuki Yuri’s coach?”

 

“What is the motive behind your move?”

 

“What is your relationship with Katsuki Yuri?”

 

There were hundreds and hundreds of questions and Yuri just blanked out, drowning out the sounds. He instinctively took Victor’s hand and squeezed it. Victor looked at the hand that was clutching his own and he smiled and put on a determined look. 

 

“Ladies and gentleman, as much as we would love to answer your questions, Yuri and I just came from a long flight and we are incredibly tired. I would like to confirm that I will be coaching Yuri for next season. Other questions will be addressed as the season progresses. Thank you.” Victor articulated every word with practiced ease and Yuri  was a bit dazzled by how he kept his fixture. He was never good at dealing with press, and never got _this_ much press before. 

 

Victor and Yuri pushed through the open space, where they spotted Minako-Sensei, who was looking at her phone. “Minako-Sensei!” Yuri called out to her as he waved. “Ah, Yuri, what took you—” She stopped as she took in the sight of Victor. “—so long….” She blatantly stared at Victor and Victor put on his smile that seemed to be an automatic thing around other people. “Hello, you must be Minako-Sensei. I’m Victor Nikiforov. I will be Yuri’s coach next season. _Hajimemashite_.” Victor held out one hand for her to shake. Minako-Sensei just looked at the hand and Victor and back again before realizing that she was being rude and took his hand and shook it. “Ah, yes, Victor. Um, _hajimemashite_. Nice to meet you.” 

 

“So, Yuri told me you’ll be taking us home? Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Victor charmed her already, Yuri could already see the hearts flowing out of her eyes. “Ah, yes, anytime. Right this way, follow me please.” Victor nodded and they followed Minako-Sensei, right where she had her car parked. They loaded the suitcases in the back. Yuri got the shotgun seat next to Minako-Sensei and Victor took the backseat along with Makkachin. Makkachin immediately curled up on the seat, resting her head on Victor’s lap. Victor fondly petted her. 

 

“She must be tired from the long flight.” Victor muttered, not really to anyone. “Yes, I can tell.” Yuri answered anyways, and Victor looked up and met his eyes. He smiled, his lips not reaching a full smile unlike his usual smile he reserved for cameras, but his eyes crinkled enough to let him know that he was. Somehow that felt much more genuine than the smiles he gave to the cameras. If the smile Victor gave to the press was worth a million dollars, this was priceless. Yuri felt himself tumbling down further into the hole that was Victor, and barely managed to contain himself. He promptly looked away, holding back. 

 

“It takes about an hour to get to Yu-Topia, that's where Yuri lives. You guys can go soak in the Onsen once you get there, Yuri’s mother already prepared Katsudon for Yuri. She’s so excited to see her son after all these years.” Minako-Sensei said as she drove out from the parking lot.

 

“Ah, Yuri, were you away for a long time?” Victor asked.

 

“Yes. I went to Detroit when I was around 18, and I stayed there until now. It’s been a while, yes. I should’ve visited sooner.” Yuri admitted fretfully. 

 

“Yes, Yuri. We were always so keen to see you, but you were busy, so we understand.” Minako-Sensei assured him sympathetically. Yuri still felt bad about not being present for such a long time, though. Long enough to not even be there when Vicchan passed away. 

 

“So, you’ve been skating for a long time, _da_?” Victor confirmed with him. 

 

“I guess. I've been skating since I was a little boy, my best friend Yuko and I always skated by the rink in Ice Castle. We would always run there after school. It was really fun,” Yuri smiled fondly at the memories, “I started competitive skating when I was about 14 years old, around the time you won Junior World Championships. You broke a world record.” Yuri blurted out without thinking, because that moment was such a natural thing for him to remember, being so deeply ingrained into him.

 

“Ah, yes, I remember that. Such a long time ago, but feels like yesterday, you know?” Victor, however, was either not surprised or was letting it slip. 

 

“It was, truly, amazing. Yuri and Yuko always watch it every—” Minako-Sensei started, but Yuri quickly stopped her. “Minako-Sensei! It's nothing, Victor, I promise. I’m really looking forward to the Katsudon. Remember I told you about it?” 

 

“Yes, I do remember. I’m really looking forward to having it as well.” Victor just had the expression he always held whenever Yuri got flustered or amused him in any kind of way. 

 

“Well, we’re almost there, so hang in there.” Minako-Sensei assured. “Look, I can already see Hasetsu Castle.” Minako pointed to the general direction of it, and Yuri could see Victor craning his neck to see the castle. 

 

“Wow! Hasetsu Castle! What is in it?” Victor asked, his eyes sparkling like a little kid. 

 

“It's not really a castle. It’s just a ninja house in disguise of a castle." Yuri explained. That fascinated Victor even more, apparently. “Wow! Ninja house? Can we please go there tomorrow?” Victor was teeming with joy and excitement that Yuri couldn’t even think about declining. Declining would literally be like kicking a puppy. “Of course, Victor. We’ll go first thing in the morning.” Yuri assented. 

 

 

*

 

“Okay, boys. We are here! Remember to put your stuff away first before going to the Onsen, or there will be no Katsudon.” At that, Victor smiled determinedly and saluted Minako-Sensei with a brief, energetic, “ _Hai_!” 

 

 

Victor quickly took Makkachin out and let her free in the backyard. “Is it okay if she runs a bit there? She stayed cramped in the airplane for so long, she kind of needs it.” Victor asked. 

 

“Yeah, no problem just let her out here. I’ll carry the suitcases up, you can go inside with Minako-Sensei." Yuri offered, since Victor carried the suitcases from the airport. 

 

“Victor-san, follow me!” Minako gestured as they walked into the house. As soon as they opened the door, Hiroko ran to the front door, greeting them. 

 

“Victor-san! How nice to see you! I’m Hiroko, Yuri’s mother. You will be coaching Yuri?” Hiroko smiled warmly as she greeted him. 

 

“Hello, Hiroko-san. Yes, I will be coaching Yuri this season. Thank you for your warm hospitality. Yuri is coming along shortly, I’m sure you are dying to see him. Can you tell me where his room is? I’ll be waiting for him there." 

 

“Oh, your welcome, Victor-san! My pleasure. His room is the last one on the second floor. We kept it just the way he left it, couldn’t bear to clean it up. You can have the spare room next to it, if you’ll be needing two bedrooms.” Hiroko had a knowing smile. _Maybe mothers just knew these things_ , Victor wondered. 

 

"We won’t be needing two. Although I think Yuri might complain.” Victor laughed. “Tell Yuri I’ll be upstairs, please.” At that, Victor moved up the stairs as Minako-sensei and Hiroko continued talking. 

 

Victor travelled up the wooden staircases, enjoying the scent of the Onsen and the wood that permeated the house. The little creaks of the staircases made it feel well-used and homey. It felt so much more personal and lived-in compared to his modern apartment back in Saint Petersburg. He hardly ever really stayed there, he basically lived on the ice rink. And it was always just him. 

 

Victor found Yuri’s room at the second floor. He smiled before turning the handle, and walked in. He was greeted with faces of…. _himself_? There were posters everywhere— ranging from ones very early on in his career to more recent ones. He was reminded of so many moments he spent on ice as he browsed the posters one by one. So Yuri must have been a big fan. The thought of Yuri, growing up and watching him as he skated made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. In the distance, he could hear frantic footsteps coming up. 

 

“Vic—tor! Don’t go into my—” Yuri stopped at the sight of Victor, already in his room. “—room.” Victor smiled at the sight of Yuri’s eyes widening and his face turning crimson. 

 

“Tell me, _luchik._ About those dreams,” Victor drawled, “Did you have dirty dreams about me after touching yourself to these posters of me as a teenager?” Yuri turned even a brighter red before he proceeded to remove the posters from the wall. Victor stopped him. 

 

“No, _luchik,_ keep them here. It’s your childhood, I don’t want to be the one to ruin it.” Victor said. Yuri just looked at him like that was the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. “Why would I need posters of you when I have the real thing?” Yuri said matter-of-factly. Victor felt the heat rush down his stomach at that plain admission. 

 

“ _Oh_.” Victor said. At Victor’s face, Yuri seemed to realize what he had implied and shook his head profusely. "No, no, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I meant that I looked at these posters for inspiration. Now that I have you as my coach, I don't need any of these anymore.” Victor snorted a little bit. _Inspiration for what,_ he thought. Yuri just blushed and promptly started to remove the posters from every corner of the wall. Without Victor’s face surrounding every inch of the wall, the room seemed a lot bigger and a lot more empty. 

 

“I don’t really think this is an improvement.” Victor said sarcastically. “Oh, get over yourself. Just because your face isn’t on every corner of my wall, it doesn’t mean that my room is any worse.” Yuri retorted jokingly. 

 

“Well, I can certainly make myself at home here.” Victor stretched and he flopped down on Yuri’s bed. But when he did, he felt something under the blankets. It felt like... a book? He sat up and took it out, revealing a magazine cover of him, the one he did for _L’Homme_ when he was 18. 

 

“Oh, um,” Yuri seemed to want to crawl into a corner at that point, “that was a gift. From my friend.” Victor raised an eyebrow. “Quite a gift, _da_?” Victor teased. Yuri moved to snatch the magazine away from him, but Victor kept it. He vaguely remembered posing for the magazine. He didn’t wear a shirt. Oh, but he was wearing those jeans— the ones he lent to Yuri. That explained why Yuri was embarrassed to wear them. He probably jerked off to him in those jeans growing up. He flipped through the pages, trying to detect some sort of evidence of Yuri’s sexual desires for Victor, but he couldn’t find any. The magazine was sparkly clean, except the torn page in the middle. 

 

“Page nine is missing.” Victor said. Yuri took away the magazine and shoved it somewhere in the drawers. “Yeah, I lost it.” Yuri said, which was obviously a lie, but he wasn’t about to push it. 

 

“Well, I'll help you find it, _luchik._ ” Yuri just stayed still, as if thinking hard about something. He was silent for a long moment before he moved and closed the door, locking it. 

 

“I told you Victor,” Yuri said, approaching him, “I don’t need it anymore.” Yuri pushed him down on the bed. 


End file.
